Hey there Delilah
by indigoamethyst
Summary: Six months after you move to the next state, he buys a webcam like yours and you buy a microphone like his.[HousexCameron] [Songfic for Hey There Delilah]


**A/N: Because this song means a lot to me for personal reasons, I'm on the computer without the first half of the next chapter of Early Morning at Home and I've drawn a complete blank on All Change (but am forming an idea, yay!). Please please review, can't stress how much it means blah blah check out my other fics blah blah... Don't own House MD, House, Cameron, instant messaging, Hey There Delilah, Plain White T's etc.**

**Enjoy!**

_Hey there Delilah, what's it like in New York City?  
Well, I'm a thousand miles away but, girl, you look so pretty,  
yes you do... Times Square can't shine as bright as you,  
I swear it's true._

Six months after you move to the next state, he buys a webcam like yours and you buy a microphone like his. Slowly, getting home and grabbing a cup of coffee (you're beginning to leave out the milk and only use half a sugar) and turning on your laptop at the kitchen table becomes the best part of your day. He's exactly the same on instant messaging as he is in real life (unsurprisingly)- still, he manages to convey that don'tcarish sneaky sarcasm through his words.

Your heart jumps slightly when "g. house has invited you to join a video conversation..." pops up on your screen and you click "Accept". You haven't seen his face in so long. He looks older than you remembered (or maybe you just idolised him in your mind) and he's definitely got more stubble than when you left. His voice hasn't changed though, and you fight hard (remember he can see you!) not to let a happy smile spread across your features when you hear him.

You write letters to him, too, sometimes. You (predictably) love recieving letters- printing out an email will never be quite the same. You nearly fall over in shock when a letter pops through your door with a neat handwritten address and a doodled-on stamp. You write to him a few times a month and he always writes back, despite the fact you talk every other day on the computer. Somehow it doesn't seem to matter.

_Hey there Delilah, don't you worry about the distance,  
I'm right there if you get lonely -give this song another listen,  
close your eyes...listen to my voice it's my disguise.  
I'm by your side_

Sometimes he grabs the webcam and sits it on top of the piano and shows you his new favourite song or one he's written (sometimes you can't tell the difference) and you yell into your computer what you think because you know his computer is sitting on the other side of the room with the volume turned up and he can hear you slightly if you shout. You feel utterly ridiculous and it's so very nice to be able to laugh again.

One day, he announces that he's going to play you a song he heard on the radio this morning. You can't help but admire his skill (repeating a song, note-for-note, six hours later) and you listen carefully because you're pretty sure he's singing too. You've heard the song too (everyone has, now, Hey There Delilah) but he seems to put a new spin on it. It sounds very different and you can suddenly understand why he spends so much time plugged into his iPod. You even dare to think that maybe he means it.

Maybe.

_oh, it's what you do to me,_

Maybe (definitely) you're just falling a little bit in love with him again.

_Hey there Delilah, I know times are getting hard,  
But just believe me girl, someday I'll pay the bills with this guitar.  
We'll have it good... we'll have the life we knew we would.  
My word is good._

You've been in New York for three years but it still doesn't (and probably won't ever) feel like home. You miss New Jersey a lot. You miss your old apartment, you miss the sounds of the expressway, you miss the hospital, you miss the people (and you never thought you'd say this) you miss the quiet. New York City isn't exactly what you could call peaceful. You're staying right in the centre, in the hospital about three streets away from Times Square, and even getting back to your apartment makes you feel exhausted.

Then you lose your job.

They're getting rid of the diagnostic department you run. They give you a good pay-off and an excellent reference. You feel lost, like the first time you stood on 42nd Street with your suitcase and the people just brushed past you like the wind (you managed to flag down a taxi in the end.) Hospital was the one place where you could safely lose yourself in your work, where you fitted in, where you were the best. And when you get home, you tell House about it (and it makes you feel better), and he offers to pulverise your superiors with his cane, and you smile slightly (through your thin tears). Then he offers you a job back at Princeton.

"I couldn't..." (and you're so shocked you forget to say it out loud and type it instead).

_oh, it's what you do to me..._

You don't want to (couldn't stand to) go back so close to him.

_A thousand miles seems pretty far,  
but they've got planes and trains and cars,  
I'd walk to you if I had no other way,  
Our friends would all make fun of us  
but we'll just laugh along because we know  
That none of them have felt this way_

But he comes to see you anyway, while you're job-hunting and living off the hefty salary you made at Princeton and New York General. Another ten years, you muse, in a job, and you could retire (if you lived frugally). He just turns up on your doorstep, like that, with half a smile and a rucksack. You think that you may have gasped slightly and he says something about making you come for that job and announces that he's going back right now if you don't agree to take it, and that you'd better appreciate it because Wilson laughed at him for about three days on end when you told him you were going to make a trip to see someone.

Shocked, you nod very slightly (wondering what you've got into.) He hands you a plane ticket, mutters that he knew you'd come round to it once you'd used his manly charms on you and pushes his way into your apartment (heading straight for the fridge, of course.). You check the date- two weeks from now, just enough time to pack up- and, you realise, with a jolt, exactly four years since he played you Hey There Delilah (coincidence?). Round trip, you decide, and follow him into your apartment and make love to him all night.

_You'll know it's all because of you,  
We can do whatever we want to  
Hey there Delilah here's to you  
This one's for you_

You arrive at the airport and scan for the exit, dragging your suitcase and handbag behind you. Locating it, you head for it, pushing through the crowd of reunited families and happy couples. And, leaning against the door, is a familiar hard-jawed, stubbled face, a grin almost cracking his face (making him look damn sexy). You open your mouth (he came?) but he holds up a hand and says to wait. You put down your suitcase and wait (playing his game.) And exactly ten seconds later, a familiar voice starts up on the airport speakers. You know which song it is almost before it starts.

He grabs your suitcase and limps out and you're (finally) heading home.

_Oh it's what you do to me,  
Oh it's what you do to me,  
Oh it's what you do to me,  
Oh it's what you do to me,  
What you do to me._

**A/N: What did you think? What did you think? Tell me! Any review makes me smile :)**


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